


You're Not For Me

by Saunter



Series: Iwaoi omegaverse [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Iwaizumi, Alternate Universe, Consent, Explicit Consent, First Meetings, Iwaoi omegaverse, Izakaya shop owner/manager Iwaizumi, Kuroo is a piece of shit and real MVP, M/M, Omega Oikawa, Omegaverse, Physical therapist Oikawa, Sex-repulsed!Oikawa, nonlinear storytelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6347164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saunter/pseuds/Saunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re after alphas now?” Oikawa says, accusatory, voice almost disgusted.</p><p>Kuroo shrugs. "What's wrong with alphas? Sometimes a man just wants to be pinned down and fucked,” he says, a smirk in his voice and obviously on his mouth.</p><p>In which Oikawa refuses to submit to the idea of pairs and blanches at the thought of needing an alpha, of all things. It just so happens that Iwaizumi Hajime shows up into his life, surely and steadily making his way through Oikawa's barriers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished the very beginning of their meeting. This is based off of the Iwaoi omegaverse that I'm developing on my tumblr, so if you want more information, go here: http://saunterfics.tumblr.com/tagged/iwaoi-ov.
> 
> There's another part out already, but that happens a good amount of time after this.
> 
> So, I'd thought I was gonna need to rate this G because it's supposed to be extremely tame. I was bummed about that because who am I if I'm not writing angst or smut? And then Kuroo saved me. Kuroo and his fucking mouth marked this as M and now I've redeemed myself.

Oikawa hums cheerfully as he riffles through his patient files, sipping gingerly at his creamed coffee during break. He has ten minutes to spare, and the day has been as smooth as he could possibly hope for. His long legs lay delicately crossed under the table as he continues to tap to the tempo of his hums.

“Oh?” he muses, fingers halting to stop at a particular stack of documents. “Well.”

He clasps his files shut, the chair squeaking against the floor as he stands to head back to the department, smile piqued on his lips. Well, well.

  
  


“Iwaizumi-san?” The nurse calls into the waiting room, poking her head halfway out the door. Their eyes make contact, and Iwaizumi wrings an acknowledging smile onto his face and gets up. “This way, please.”

He enters a room equipped with various exercise machines, a few others already in the middle of their sessions, and takes a seat where the nurse asks him to. It's been awhile since he's been here, or rather--physical therapy, and he doesn't know if it's normal to feel somewhat nostalgic. Maybe not.

He doesn't expect the therapist to be out so quickly. He's caught off guard when a chipper “Hello!” sounds in his direction, and even more so when he catches sight of the tall-- _long--_ boy of a man greeting him. But shit, he's good-looking. Albeit somewhat gaudy. His hair falls way too perfectly to be a quick gel in the morning. “I'm Oikawa. Have you had therapy before?” Iwaizumi thinks that this guy's smile is a little too bright. It's so perfectly natural that it's not.

“Yeah, in high school.”

“Oooh,” Oikawa muses, and Iwaizumi knows that he's going to hear that a lot from now on. “Been a while, then.” His eyes give Iwaizumi a once-over, quick, and settle back on his eyes like it didn't happen.

Iwaizumi shrugs. “I suppose.”

And then Oikawa has a notepad out, nodding, scribbling as he says, “So why exactly are you here?”

“My shoulder's acting up again.”

“An old injury?”

“Volleyball. High school.”

Iwaizumi watches Oikawa write, takes him in, doesn't notice that he's staring. Something about this guy strikes him as off, but with his whole too-bubbly-for-a-grown-man demeanor, Iwaizumi can't really tell.

The session is similar to what Iwaizumi remembers, back when he had to get physical therapy after his shoulder healed. It's been about a decade and it still acts up from time to time. Not that it really bothers Iwaizumi. He just happened to have an annoying acquaintance by the name of Hanamaki who insists that he work on it again.  Throughout the hour, Oikawa manages to exude professionalism while chattering like a complete child, attention span seemingly nonexistent with the way he jumps from topic to topic, but that couldn't be true because he iss focused when it comes to tending to Iwaizumi's injury. It's a little disorienting, what with Iwaizumi being used to solid consistency.

“Okay!” Oikawa exclaims, patting fondly at Iwaizumi's shoulder. “You're in safe hands now, with Oikawa-san,” he says, lifting his chin higher as he ends his sentence.

Iwaizumi raises his brows.

“Oh,” Oikawa continues, suddenly preoccupied, hand shoving into his coat pocket, “want some candy?”

Now Iwaizumi's eyes widen to meet his brows. He stares at the offered candy, cupped in that guy's hands, then up at the man himself. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it.

If he wasn't already convinced within that hour that Oikawa has no concept of self-restraint, he may have thought that Oikawa seemed slightly embarrassed at Iwaizumi's lack of response.

“Well--you know--I generally see teen athletes so like, I'd give them these every time because--ah, don't you think they need some cheering up what with all the pressure adults give them all the time? Remind them it’s okay once in a while?”

Oh. So he can be perceptive. Iwaizumi glances down at the colorfully-wrapped candies, barely notices the way Oikawa may have cleared his throat to speak, and grabs one. He smiles at Oikawa, amused. “Cool. Thanks.”

He pops it into his mouth when he leaves, and it hits him that it tastes just like Oikawa had smelled--enticingly sweet.  
  
  
  


Kuroo stares down at his friend, expression entirely unamused, as Oikawa melts onto the the coffee table, a long whine trailing out his mouth. “Shut up, will you?” he jabs, eyes back to the TV as he sends a green shell towards Kenma. Kuroo Tetsurou will claim championship over Mario Kart.

OIkawa darts up, posture immaculately straight, and glares at Kuroo. His expression is perfectly offended. “Kuroo! You’re breaking my poor, fragile soul right here!”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat your pizza.”

Oikawa huffs, sits back on his haunches, and eats his pizza. “It’s unbelievable,” Oikawa continues, face in a pout even while chewing, “how can someone be _so obviously alpha?_ ” He grimaces.

Kuroo sighs. Oikawa had shown up at his door an hour ago and immediately began to rant. Not that Kuroo isn’t used to it, since Oikawa has given himself the permission to do that since day one. “Isn’t it just a thing? You know, biology and genes and shit.”

“It should be illegal. Illegal!”

“Why, because he’s too hot?”

Oikawa mocks a scandalized gasp right as Kuroo curses at Kenma’s counterattack. He flings an arm to his chest. “Me, the gorgeous Oikawa Tooru, thinks a picture-book alpha is _hot_?” He huffs. “I swear, he might as well be the face of all those stupid Alpha Male magazines.”

Kuroo whistles, eyes not leaving the screen once. “If you don’t want him, at least introduce us, won’t ya?”

Oikawa glares, clinches a napkin delicately between his forefinger and thumb, wipes his hands. Then he grabs a pillow from the couch to hurl at Kuroo, who somehow manages to dodge it well enough to avoid a head shot. “You’re after alphas now?” Oikawa says, accusatory, voice almost disgusted.

Kuroo shrugs. "What's wrong with alphas? Sometimes a man just wants to be pinned down and fucked,” he says, a smirk in his voice and obviously on his mouth. He turns his eyes on Oikawa to make his point, not bothering to notice the side-eye that Kenma gives him.  
  
Oikawa gags. Mumbles, "I have been betrayed."

“Hey, I'm just saying, I'll take him off your hands.” Kuroo curses again as he loses to Kenma. He swipes a bite of his pizza and declares a next round before leaning into his couch, finally looking over at Oikawa. He shrugs. “I'm actually curious just how alpha he is.”

Oikawa scrunches his face. “Your broad, buff, stocky but somehow well proportioned alpha.” He considers his visual memory for a second, adds, “ But he's shorter than me.”

Kuroo scoffs. “You're lucky you're tall. And arrogant. Or else you'd be cute. A cute omega. I'd date you.” Kuroo grins over at Oikawa and doesn't deign to wait for a response before he turns his head back to the TV.

“Fuck you,” Oikawa spits.

“That's the point.”

It brightens onto a new screen, and then Kuroo’s not paying attention to Oikawa anymore as he gears himself up at trying to beat Kenma again.

Oikawa whines out a sigh, curls his legs into his chest as he leans against the foot of the couch, and brings his pizza close as he settles with watching his friends get wrapped up in Mario Kart.  
  
  
  


Four weeks into treatment, Oikawa thinks Iwaizumi isn't that bad. He almost feels guilty for griping about his mark. Almost.

Iwaizumi is a tacit man, and Oikawa doesn't notice until he's running his mouth for a good part of the hour, only to realize that Iwaizumi never really says anything in return unless Oikawa asks directly.

He learns that Iwaizumi works at his family's izakaya bar, that he's helped out at the store since he was a kid, that it's a decent job. He learns that Iwaizumi doesn't like talking about himself, that he doesn't seem to like talking much in general, and that he is actually a pretty good listener.

Oikawa teases him once, when he realizes that Iwaizumi's the same age as him, and laughs about how he thought Iwaizumi was older simply because of the way he talks about things like he's wearied by experience. For the first time, Iwaizumi throws an insult at him. Calls him “quite self-assured” in such a sarcastic tone that Oikawa couldn't _not_ make a joke out of it.

Oikawa's the one who steps into shaky territory. He doesn't expect to; it just comes out. He's demonstrating stretches for Iwaizumi when he asks, “So, have you an omega with you? Living the domestic, family-run business life?”

The smile on his lips might be powdered with a little too much sugar. He doesn't like the topic and doesn't usually bring it up else it gets turned on him, but he's curious. And if Oikawa follows nothing in life, he follows his curiosity, dead cat be damned.

Iwaizumi purses his lips. It's surprising, actually, because Oikawa didn't know that his patient could look any more irritable than his usual scowl. “No,” Iwaizumi says, word clipped in a burst of breath. They're quiet, then, “And you?”

“Huh?”

“A partner.”

“Oh,” Oikawa says. He chuckles, hoping it doesn't sound forced. “No.”

The conversation ends at that, awkward tension hanging over them because it doesn't feel like the conversation is over. Iwaizumi looks contemplative but says nothing so Oikawa leaves it at that.  
  
  
  


It's rare for Oikawa to fall speechless. He can only remember it once in his life, when he saw the signs of a mark forming on his hipbone. He'd prayed all his childhood not to be that, anything but that, but God liked to fuck with people and Oikawa ended up with a mark on his _hipbone._

He's seen enough of what they say about omegas and heard enough about what's _supposed_ to be the best pairing that he thinks it's obvious why _he_ shouldn't be an omega.

Whatever. He got over it and made it through college, made it to now. His life is stable, he has a handful of good friends and a well-paying job. No one needs to know his mark, because no one needs to be close to Oikawa like that, and the general consensus seems to be that he's an alpha or potentially a beta, but no, he doesn't fit as an omega. That suited him just fine, until now.

Now he's sitting in the patient room, stunned silent at the man across from him, the _alpha_ across from him, the one with his eyes averted.

“...Sorry?”

Iwaizumi turns his eyes back on him, and wow, Oikawa thinks, because the apples of Iwaizumi's cheeks are dusted with pink. Iwaizumi struggles with his voice, and Oikawa briefly wonders if he should just shoot this down the way he always does. Smile, fake a heartfelt apology, say he's got it complicated. But something about the way _Iwaizumi's_ asking that has him hesitating.

“I…wanted to know if you'd be willing to grab dinner with me next Friday. My treatment's done with one more session and I thought―I don't know, I'd like to see you again.”

Iwaizumi turns his gaze away again and Oikawa is confused. He's so confused at how Iwaizumi's asking him out to dinner and _averting_ his eyes. Alphas don't _avert_ their eyes. They ask, and ask, and ask, until you say yes and they get at least one chance. For a brief moment, a curious thought crosses Oikawa's mind.

“Okay,” he says, “sure.”

The way Iwaizumi doesn't quite react, the way he purses his lips and nods solemnly has Oikawa perplexed.  
  
  
  


<<Shit.

His usual break has been ruined. Oikawa’s hunched over his phone, elbows on the table of the breakroom, focused.

>>What’s up?

Kuroo, no matter how shitty he may be, at least texts back fast.

<<Shit. Shit. He asked me to dinner. HE FUCKING ASKED ME TO DINNER

>>Well fuck.

Oikawa glares at the whistling emoticon.

>>Guess he is quite the alpha, after all.

Kuroo, that bastard.

<<Yeah, but he shouldn't know that I’M not an alpha. No one should know what I am. That's the point.

>>Well? Did you say no?

Oikawa hesitates, because this is the exact reason why he texted Kuroo in the first place. And props to him for completely ignoring Oikawa's train of thought.

But it's been an hour already and Oikawa doesn’t know what came over him. He's panicking because somehow he’s _scared_ of what might go down and Oikawa Tooru is never _scared._ Oikawa Tooru is fearless. He might have hesitated too long, because Kuroo is an impatient texter as well, and continues.

>>Don’t tell me you said yes.

>>You fucking said yes.

<<I DON’T KNOW.

The moment replays itself relentlessly in his mind and Oikawa wants to scream.

<<He was just

<<He was

He was _cute._ Oikawa has no other description. Iwaizumi actually averted his gaze mid-sentence, and that did a number to Oikawa’s chest. Alphas just aren’t the type to break eye contact first. With his experience, Oikawa knows. Alphas are―alphas are annoying and they never _listen._ But Iwaizumi―Iwaizumi seemed ready to drop the topic if Oikawa said no.  Oikawa can’t figure that out now, because he agreed before he realized that he was.

Oikawa plops his forehead against his arms, regretting his life.

>>You’re fucked.

Maybe texting Kuroo was a bad idea.

<<Kuroo! You’re supposed to back me up!

The only reply he gets is a smug, shrugging emoticon.  
  
  
  


_Damn._ Oikawa thinks it before he can halt his thoughts. Checking his watch, there's still a good five minutes before they were supposed to meet, but Iwaizumi's already standing there, leaning against the wall with a foot propped under him. He's in a nice polo, but Oikawa's not quite sure if it's the shirt that's nice, or that it's Iwaizumi wearing it that makes it nice. Those jeans look real good, too.

“Hi there,” Oikawa greets. He puts on his usual smile, holds himself up the way he usually does, hands in pockets, head tilted slightly.

Iwaizumi doesn't smile back, and it's odd. Oikawa isn't expecting one, but it's not that he _wasn't_ expecting one, either. It's just hard figuring out what's next when Iwaizumi doesn't dance along to the usual social tune.

“You can drop the ‘-san.’ Just ‘Iwaizumi’ ‘s fine.”

Oikawa tries it on his mouth. It rolls off just fine, but it sounds like they're cementing a business deal with the way Iwaizumi looks, dark eyebrows and all, and the way his name sits heavy in the air. Oikawa says it again―“Iwaizumi.”―and laughs a little.

The crease between Iwaizumi's brows deepens just slightly. “What is it?”

“No, no it's nothing. But have you ever been given a nickname?”

“And why would I need one?”

“Don't get so defensive,” Oikawa chides, amusement in his voice. “But has anyone ever told you your name sounds like we're finishing off some serious business?” Oikawa says it again in that tone as if Iwaizumi needed demonstration.

Iwaizumi doesn't say anything.

“Okay! I'll call you Iwa-chan. Everyone needs a little nickname, you know?” He grins, actually kind of proud of himself. “Do you mind?”

“I do,” Iwaizumi says.

“Hey! It's okay you need some cute to balance out that scowl,” Oikawa says, pressing a finger to Iwaizumi's frown. “Now, let's get some dinner.”

The dinner goes more quietly than Oikawa likes. They're at a ramen shop in the heart of the city, and it's bustling with high school kids to university students to blue-collared workers with their ties thrown over their shoulders. Oikawa wonders briefly what his life would have been if he decided to go into the workforce like he was expected to. Representing a company, 9-to-5, settle down with a family after a few years. Ah, that was why he didn't. Families aren't his thing. He could never marry an alpha woman and have kids and live that happy kind of life like nothing is wrong. He could never raise kids of his own, no matter how much he may like his nephew.

Oikawa glances over at Iwaizumi. He'd make a good father. He's got that...vibe. The one where he seems harsh but he'd dote on his kids in a heartbeat. He’s got the stability of an alpha, the stability that Oikawa apparently doesn't have.

“What's wrong?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling Oikawa back to the moment.

Oh. He'd been spacing out. Oikawa hasn't done that in the direct presence of another person in a long while. He smiles, chuckling briefly, and shakes his head. “It's nothing.”

Iwaizumi doesn't try to make conversation even as they wait for their food to come. Oikawa considers chattering to fill the silence, but something gives him the feeling that he doesn't need to. So he doesn't.

It's not until they're two-thirds into their dinner that Iwaizumi says, “You know, I have two younger siblings back home. They would always bother me to play with them, or lend them a game, or help them do this or that.” He smiles in a wry kind of fondness. “They can't do anything on their own; well they used to. But they're strong.” He falls quiet again, finishing his food, and Oikawa doesn't know what to say.

“Oh, sorry,” Iwaizumi continues. “I don't mean to make you follow up on that, but I wanted to say that you remind me of them.”

“Me?”

Surprisingly, Iwaizumi laughs. It's not anything impressive, just a small huff and a smile there, but it's a laugh nonetheless. “Yeah, I don't know why. You just do.” Iwaizumi stares at him. It's such a straightforward gaze that Oikawa wants to hide. But then it's gone. “Maybe it's the way you talk about things.”

Oikawa mirrors Iwaizumi's eyes, letting them fall down to stare into his bowl. Now this he wasn't expecting. He doesn't think he's heard Iwaizumi say as much in one breath as he has just now. So he can only follow with, “How old are your siblings?”

“One's about to graduate university, the other just entered.”

“Cute,” Oikawa says, grin back on his face.

They end dinner with mostly silence, but Oikawa finds that he doesn't mind. There's something about Iwaizumi that makes silence the default and it's comforting, too. The entire outing has played out like a normal meeting between friends, but then Iwaizumi's insisting on paying.

“Iwa-chan, stop it. I'm going to get angry if you don't let me pay for myself.”

Iwaizumi stares at him and Oikawa thinks he's finally convinced him.

“You can pay next time. I asked you out tonight and I want to do this. Just take it as me thanking you for your care or something.” Iwaizumi sets the bills down, shoves Oikawa's card back at him. “Please.”

Oikawa glares at the card presses at his chest. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to start off already with this whole alpha-duty situation. But he gives in, huffs, and takes his card. “Fine. But I'm paying next time.”

Iwaizumi hands the bills to the counter, says, “Yeah,” in reply to Oikawa.  
  
  
  


<<I said “next time.” I don't know why I said next time.

>>Were you not supposed?

<<What do you think?? Of course there's no next time! He's an alpha!

>>So?

Oikawa groans and tosses in his bed. He's going to strangle Kuroo the next time he sees that fucking shady smirk.

>>How'd it go anyways?

Oikawa throws his phone beside him and sighs. He turns off the lights in an attempt to get himself to sleep, but he ends up thinking about nothing and everything for the next two hours.

Iwaizumi doesn't contact him the next day. Or the next week. Not that Oikawa's counting. But it throws him off that an alpha would ask him out and then leave him alone for so long. He tells himself that this is just perfect, but he's been oddly restless as the days passed. Maybe Iwaizumi realized that Oikawa “isn’t” an omega and decided to stop. Or maybe he just isn’t interested anymore. Oikawa’s reviewing the rest of his patients’ files for the rest of the week, but he can’t quite concentrate. Just two more days to the weekend.

Perhaps he’ll take a trip Friday night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't the way it's supposed to go. Oikawa has no idea why he's not rejecting Iwaizumi like he usually does to alphas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep calling this the "first meeting story" but really I should revise that to "beginnings of sparks."  
> Again, there should be more to this AU but I'm compiling them as part of the Iwaoi omegaverse series instead of chapters. So if you haven't already, consider subscribing/bookmarking that if you're interested.

Oikawa straightens the files by tapping them against the desk and stretches. He closes his eyes for a second, extending his legs as he leans back in his chair to breathe. What a long week it’s been. Three new patients at once is quite a lot, although it's not that Oikawa’s complaining. It’s just a lot. And he’s looking forward to the break he has with the weekend around the corner.

“Oikawa-san?”

Oikawa lifts open his eyes and spins around to see Kunimi peeking into the office. “Oh, if it isn’t Kunimi-chan!”

All Kunimi does is sigh, as he does now whenever Oikawa calls him that. “Yes,” he says, skillfully ignoring the peppiness that Oikawa exudes, “how much longer are you staying? It’s past seven.”

Oikawa is visible with glee. “Oh my, is Kunimi-chan showing concern? For Oikawa-san?”

“I’m not. I just don’t want the receptionist to freak out because you collapsed again. Because I’ll probably be the one to deal with it. Again.”

“You are so not cute,” Oikawa sulks, but alas, Kunimi is having none of it.

“And you can be such a pain in the ass,” Kunimi retorts without batting a lash. He’s too used to Oikawa’s antics, it seems. So Oikawa doesn’t put up much of a fight, because Kunimi has never quite been susceptible to his charms anyways―but it doesn't mean Oikawa doesn't at least pout. “Now go out and have a drink or something, since it’s a Friday.”

Oikawa curls himself onto his desk, resting his head onto his arms. “Will Kunimi-chan come with me?”

“No,” he sighs. “I already have plans.” Kunimi peers over his shoulder, apparently saying goodbye to whoever passed by down the adjacent hall, before turning back to Oikawa. “It’s my friend’s birthday so we’re going out for dinner and a few drinks.”

Oikawa clicks his tongue, turns his head sideways onto his arms, away from Kunimi.

“Do you seriously not have anything to do other than work?”

Oikawa grabs the stray pen in his line of sight and starts twirling it. He doesn’t go out often, since it’s not like there’s anything in particular for him to do anyways. He usually just crashes at Kuroo's place. Most of the time that ends up in him watching Kuroo and Kenma duke it out in video games, anyways. “Everyone I see eventually wants to go out with me,” he mutters, speaking with his chin against his forearm.

“So now you’re complaining that you are too popular,” Kunimi says, exasperated.

“I'm not! Well, maybe!” Oikawa complains. “Kunimi-chan is the only one who doesn’t seem interested. So you should hang out with me!”

Oikawa pouts at the way Kunimi raises his eyebrows at him and continues to say, “Acting like a child has no effect on me, Oikawa-san.”

“That’s why I both love and hate you.”

Kunimi gives him one last look that Oikawa pretends to ignore, then says, “Well, I'm just reminding you to rest so that I don’t get a call two hours after work about you. I’m leaving now.”

Oikawa remains slumped on his desk for a few minutes after Kunimi disappears from the door, moping. Now that Kunimi’s brought it up, Oikawa really doesn’t feel like going straight home, alone, on a Friday night. Not that he usually minds, but there really hasn’t been anything new lately.

Well―actually.

He’s got something he could do.

   
  
  


It’s almost a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, Oikawa thinks as he walks down the street. A lot of the neighboring shops have closed up for the night, with the lights of a few eateries scattered here and there. When Oikawa arrives at the front of the izakaya bar, he pauses for a second because somehow, his brain is reminding him that he doesn’t know what to expect by coming here, or how exactly he plans to act. Purposely coming to an alpha’s territory? Coming to see him on his own accord? Oikawa reminds himself that it’s not as exaggerated as he seems to be reacting, but. But still. Alphas are no good. They never turn out to be. But Iwaizumi shouldn't know he's an omega.

Oikawa inhales to calm himself down and pushes open the door. It’s surprisingly homey, although still sharp with the ambiently yellow lighting, the tatami rooms in the back, the neatly spaced bamboo panels. The chorus of “Welcome!” fades behind the chattering noise from various tables of customers. The bar is off to the right, and as Oikawa’s eyes do a quick scan of the shop, he notices the casual comfort of the patrons as well as their range in age. He almost doesn’t recognize Iwaizumi in his uniform, complete with the chef’s cap and a little furrow of his eyebrows. It’s oddly befitting of him, Oikawa thinks, and decides to cut himself off before he gets any further with that.

He smiles when he meets Iwaizumi’s eyes, and all Iwaizumi does is nod at him in greeting. Oikawa wonders what he was getting nervous about out there; Iwaizumi probably never spoke more than ten words at once to him when it wasn’t necessary. He walks up to take a seat at the bar, slipping onto one of the only two open stools. Maybe it’s been a while since Oikawa’s gone out on a Friday night, since the bar is busier than he imagined.

“Hey, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shouts happily, his charming smile sliding across his lips like oil. “How’s it going? How’s the shoulder?”

“Good,” Iwaizumi says, smile small, as he sets the table for him, just a simple plate, napkin, and chopsticks. A waitress had already handed Oikawa a menu. “What can I make for you?”

Oikawa hums, settling into his seat, and looks through the menu. “What do you recommend?” he asks, although it’s not something he usually does. But he wants to speak with Iwaizumi, and this is what his mind’s coming up with.

“Tell me what you like,” Iwaizumi says.

   
  
  


When Iwaizumi goes off to the kitchen to place Oikawa’s orders, the guy next to him turns around and casually introduces himself as “Matsukawa, Iwaizumi’s best friend. Pleasure to meet you.”

Oikawa glances down at the outstretched hand, surprised for a second, and takes it. “Iwa-chan’s best friend?”

Matsukawa snorts. “ _Iwa-chan_?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa chimes, “He was being all serious-stiff all the time so I tried making him a _little_ cuter. Doesn’t seem to be working.” He peeks over at the kitchen to make his point.

Matsukawa literally guffaws. “I’ve watched people do that over the years,” Matsukawa says, shaking his head in resignation, smile on his lips, “but it doesn’t faze him one bit. His latest girlfriend ended up failing, too.”

“He has a girlfriend?” Oikawa asks, hoping it comes off as nothing but simple, surprised curiosity.

Matsukawa chuckles. “Does it seem that unbelievable?” He picks up his sake cup, takes a sip.

“Oh,” Oikawa says, “no. It doesn’t...it’s just...you could say he doesn’t seem the type?” Oikawa fumbles. So he _has_ a girlfriend? Oikawa is too distracted to notice that he’s furrowing his brows.

Matsukawa's expression is bright with amusement. “Haha! I know, right? I’m always telling him he needs to speak a little more and try to smile. I mean, I owe his parents quite a bit so I’m at least trying to be a good friend, you know? He’s already getting to his thirties―really should start thinking of settling down.” He turns, pats the woman next to him. “Wouldn’t you agree, Suzuki-obasan?”

“Oh! Icchan! My, look at how you’ve grown.” She squeezes at his bicep gratuitously, then gives his shoulder two hearty pats. “I remember when you were _this_ small,” she says while gesturing with her hand. “So, what am I agreeing to?”

Oikawa peers across Matsukawa, sees the small, elderly woman smile.

“That Hajime really should be thinking about starting a family, right?”

Suzuki concurs in a heartbeat, going off about how Hajime-chan is such a good boy, has always been, and it’s such a mystery why it doesn’t seem anywhere close to him settling down with a cute, omega girl yet. Just at that moment, Iwaizumi pops back from the kitchen, glancing over his customers at the bar, before Suzuki calls for his attention.

“Hajime-chan!” She waves him over to their side, and says, “Don’t you think it’s about time for you to get married soon?”

Oikawa watches Iwaizumi’s expression, but it shows nothing but the kind of defeat you’d have if a topic has been over-discussed.

“Suzuki-obasan, you don’t have to worry about me. But why the sudden question?”

“It’s not sudden, boy! If you need help, I can introduce you to a few, good girls. Even Icchan is worrying about you!”

Iwaizumi turns his gaze at Matsukawa, and Oikawa guesses that if Suzuki-obasan wasn’t there, he’d be glaring daggers. Curiously, Iwa-chan at least knows how to smile in front of his elders. Oikawa wonders just why Iwaizumi seems so irritated. What, is it because Oikawa is here? Don’t want him to figure out that he’s actually a shameless flirt?

“Is that so?” Iwaizumi asks pleasantly. “Matsukawa, shouldn’t you be worrying about yourself, first?”

Matsukawa is unfazed by the thinly veiled look of irritation across Iwaizumi’s expression. Instead he continues to sip leisurely at his sake and raises his free hand in peace. “Hey, I’m just saying. Auntie and Uncle asked me to watch out for you, so I’m trying to fulfill my duty here. Plus, you know my parents. I’m free.”

Iwaizumi sighs, then proceeds to change the subject by checking up on his customers. He serves Oikawa not too long after, pausing to stare at Matsukawa. “You didn’t say anything unnecessary, did you?”

“Of course not,” Matsukawa replies, smile bright.

Oikawa starts to ignore them, excited at the katsudon in front of him. He feels his stomach start to growl and realizes that he’s much hungrier than he thought. He huffs, thinking back on what Kunimi always says, that he likes to overwork himself and never remembers to eat. It’s still busy in the shop, so Iwaizumi makes constant rounds in addition to the bar. Oikawa finds that their eyes meet from time to time, but quickly enough, Iwaizumi’s off tending the shop again.

“What d’you think?” Matsukawa asks after a while, when the chatter has quieted down and Oikawa notices the table off to the side, a group of four elderly men with their drinks and flushed faces. He turns his head back to Matsukawa.

“It’s a quaint place, almost.” Oikawa doesn’t expect him to laugh.

“It is, huh,” Matsukawa says, musing. “It’s nice to meet you, though.” He turns back toward Oikawa. “He’s such a recluse _and_ a workaholic that sometimes I wonder if he has any other friends besides me and a few others from when we were kids.” Reaching over, Matsukawa casually pours more sake for him and Oikawa. “But I didn’t catch your name…?”

“Oh, crap, sorry. I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he says as he extends an arm. “Here’s my namecard.”

Matsukawa lets out a small whistle. “Physical therapist, huh? Smart _and_ handsome. What are you doing, coming to visit my pal over here?” He nods his head in Iwaizumi’s direction. “He can be quite the bore,” he continues heartily.

“No―he’s,” Oikawa cuts himself off, catching the word that he was about to say, and regroups. “He can be interesting,” he finishes, voice joking, brows quirked, “when he’s not giving off the vibe like he has a wife and three kids at home.”

Matsukawa cracks up. “Hahaha! He really does seem like that sometimes, doesn’t he?”

“Well, that might be true soon, isn’t it? Since he’s got himself a girlfriend and all.”

“What?”

Oikawa probably looks as confused as Matsukawa looks surprised. Oikawa tilts his head at him. “Didn’t you say he has a girlfriend?”

“No? Nah, not right now. Somehow he keeps getting dumped.”

Oikawa drops it, more alarmed at the way his heart seems to beat a little faster and at how his shoulders don’t feel as tense as they did a few seconds ago. So it was a misunderstanding. Or maybe he’s the one misunderstanding things all along, and Iwaizumi was not actually trying to court him. That should be a relief. It should.

They continue to make small talk after that, and the next time Oikawa checks the clock, it's nearing closing hours. He glances around them and realizes they're ones of the few left.

“Crap, it's already so late,” Matsukawa says, following Oikawa's eyes. “I should probably get going; I've got plans tomorrow.”

“All right,” Oikawa says, “I think I'll finish this drink first.” He stands as Matsukawa puts on his coat, and extends his hand again. “Glad we met, Mattsun.” He winks jokingly.

Matsukawa smirks right back, takes his hand, and says, “Likewise. Well then, good night.” He turns towards Iwaizumi, who was just coming back from being called to the kitchen.

“Leaving now?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Matsukawa says. “I'll see you later.”

“Okay. Have a safe trip home.”

Oikawa absentmindedly watches Mattsun pay at the counter as he takes another sip of sake. When he's gone out the door, Oikawa slowly loses focus from the front of the shop and turns back towards the bar.

“I'll leave soon,” Oikawa says, directed at Iwaizumi. He doesn't get a reply, nor an indication that he's been heard, until a beat later when Iwaizumi asks.

“Do you have some time? Want to drink with me in a few, after I close up?”

Oikawa stares, trying his hardest not to change his expression at all. It’d be easy to say no. It’d be easy to say he has to get home because he has plans for tomorrow. It’d be easy to do what he’s always done, and turn this down.

“Sure,” Oikawa says, bringing a smile to his lips. “I’ll wait for you.”

   
  
  


After the employees have left and Iwaizumi locked the doors, he takes a seat at the bar with a bottle of liquor in hand. “I’m sorry you had to meet Matsukawa,” he says while pouring out the drinks.

Oikawa watches the liquid slide out the bottle mouth into the glass, more mesmerized than he should be with the tickle of alcohol he already has in his bloodstream. He wonders if his tolerance has gone down, because he shouldn’t be feeling giddy yet.

“Mattsun? I like him,” Oikawa says, voice lilting down as he takes the proffered glass. He slides his eyes over to Iwa-chan’s, looking straight at him and smiling. “How nice, though. Childhood friends, besties.”

The way Iwa-chan holds his gaze has the blood in Oikawa’s veins tingling. Fuck, staying might not have been a good idea. He breaks away by glancing down into the shochu he’d been drinking.

Iwa-chan sighs, making Oikawa peek up at him. He’s staring somewhere else, and it’s perfect for Oikawa to admire that strong jawline, tanned skin, probably freckles. What the hell, Oikawa thinks, because why does he look so handsome when he’s just sitting there?

“So you’ve been won over, huh?” Iwa-chan glances back at him through the corner of his eye and smiles. “Best friend or not, he sure loves giving me hell.”

Oikawa laughs. “What, because he’s teasing you about your love life?” His body is starting to feel lighter and somewhere in his mind, he finds this amusing. “That’s what friends do. But he’s right,” Oikawa continues, purposefully propping his chin onto his hand, “I doubt you’re in need of admirers.”

Iwaizumi looks like he’s on the verge of pursing his lips, but he’s good at that stoic face, Oikawa realizes.

“Nuh-uh,” Oikawa tsks before Iwaizumi can reply, “don’t you say bullshit like you don’t actually have a steady flow of omega girls eyeing you.” Oikawa smiles, close to a smirk, and leans in a little closer. “With a body like that, you’re not fooling anyone.”

The pause in the conversation has Oikawa tilting his head at how Iwaizumi looks away from him. When Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to have a reply, Oikawa wonders if he said anything wrong, but he can’t pinpoint what would be wrong. Until he finally stares long enough and figures it out.

“Are you blushing, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa blinks. “Holy crap, you’re _blushing_.”

“Shut it,” Iwaizumi retorts, turning his face as far from Oikawa as possible. “It’s just the shochu.”

Oikawa hums, because the shochu is indeed good. “You didn’t strike me as the shy type.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, you’re not,” Oikawa says, smiling. He leans back, contemplative. “But I _am_ curious. Don’t you want a partner?”

“I do,” Iwaizumi says, turning back. “But it’s not that easy.”

And shit, he’s looking right at Oikawa again―with _green_ in his eyes. When did he have green eyes? It must be the lighting playing tricks on his mind because that gaze is striking.

“Oh,” Oikawa says stupidly, because he understands that phrase. He understands, but how can it be _not that easy_ for an alpha―an alpha like _Iwaizumi_?

“I don’t want just anyone on the street who’s interested in me. I thought maybe, you’d understand that.”

Those last words send a jolt through Oikawa and he can’t seem to look away, afraid that Iwaizumi would see through him more than he already has. More than he _potentially_ has. He bites the bottom of his lips. “I...think I do, huh.”

The alcohol definitely lowered his senses, because they’re closer than Oikawa realized. His eyes slip down to Iwaizumi’s lips before he can help it, and dart back up in hopes that he could hide it. They’re quiet, gazes caught in a tangle.

“Why didn’t you contact me this whole week?” Oikawa asks in the soft silence, his own voice just as quiet. His heartbeat pulses loudly in his ear and Oikawa worries his thumb at the side of his glass. Shit, he shouldn’t have asked that. Why did he ask? Oikawa doesn’t care. He thought he didn’t care.

He can feel Iwaizumi’s eyes on him. It’s searing through his body and Oikawa sits stiffly in his seat, hairs on end. The next few seconds feel suspended from how hyperaware Oikawa is of himself, of Iwaizumi’s gaze. Then, he could finally breathe when Iwaizumi looks away.

“I thought that,” Iwaizumi says, staring at the back wall of the bar, “you’d find me if…”

Oikawa waits. “If…?” He leans in reflexively. His heart is picking up its pace again, and screw it, Oikawa feels _excited._ If anything, he likes being right.

“If you were interested,” Iwaizumi says.

Too close. His face is too close. Oikawa can practically feel the tickle of Iwaizumi’s breath as he follows his eyes down―Oikawa does not miss how Iwaizumi glances at his lips. It’s a bad decision. He knows. But he also wants it right now, and he’s not thinking particularly straight. So Oikawa leans in, basked in the warmth flowing through his veins and the warmth in the golden lights at the corner of his vision.

He’s stopped by a hand at his mouth. Oikawa pulls back just slightly, shocked.

“You’re drunk,” Iwaizumi notes, as if this is new.

“Not entirely,” Oikawa muses, although he cannot deny the buzz in his head with each move he makes. His hand settles a touch above Iwaizumi’s knee and he’s closing the distance again. He knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t know why he’s doing it. His attitude towards alphas hasn’t changed, and his desire to stay away from them is no different. But tonight, he’s not letting himself think anymore.

“No,” Iwaizumi says firmly, an arm against Oikawa’s chest. “Not like this.”

Oikawa doesn’t expect to be rejected twice. Even if layers of his rationality has been peeled back, the weight of rejection remains strong. Coming back to his senses just slightly, Oikawa mutters an apology and fumbles to get up. Shit, his mind’s foggier than he thought. He gathers his coat before Iwaizumi could say anything, mumbling as he goes. “Sorry. I _am_ drunk. I should go.” He stands too quickly, disorienting himself, but he recovers just as quickly to stumble towards the door.

“Oikawa, wait―”

He doesn’t heed, embarrassment hot in his cheeks, but Iwaizumi catches his elbow, halting him in his steps.

“Wait,” Iwaizumi says, his voice strained in some sort of urgency.

Oikawa expects him to say more, but it’s not what he wants to hear when Iwaizumi simply continues with, “Let me take you home.”

“I’m fine. I can make it home myself.”

“You’re not fine. The last train is about to leave, anyways.”

Oikawa finds that his desire to refuse is weakening. God, he hasn’t gotten past tipsy in ages.

“Please,” Iwaizumi says, grip tightening just a tad.

Finally, Oikawa nods.

   
  
  


He waits for Iwaizumi out back, leaning against the shop’s truck. The cool of the night air soothes his heated cheeks as he tilts his head back and stares up at the dark, dimly illuminated sky. Iwaizumi had told him to stay put, he’ll be back right away after he locks up, and Oikawa had better _not_ try to slink off.

“Good, you’re still here,” Iwaizumi says while making his way over, shrugging on a coat. “Here, drink all of this by the time we get to your place.” He shoves a water bottle into Oikawa’s hands.

“I said I could get home just fine,” Oikawa mumbles, staring at the bottle in his hands.

“Sure, but I have the time. Just get in.”

Oikawa grumbles nonsensically as he climbs into the passenger’s seat and straps himself in. The car ride is quiet for the most part, save for the times when Iwaizumi asks for directions. The drive doesn’t take long, especially since it’s late and there are barely any cars on the road. When they arrive at Oikawa’s complex, he expects to be dropped off and that’s it, but Iwaizumi takes it upon himself and insists on walking him to the door.

“I’m not some helpless girl,” Oikawa protests, fumbling with his keys in the dark.

“I never said you were. Did you drink all the water?”

After the lock clicks, Oikawa turns around and dangles the empty bottle in front of Iwaizumi’s face. “Happy?”

It’s a shame they’re standing with barely any light, because Oikawa swears Iwaizumi smiled at that.

“Okay, good. Give me a call tomorrow to let me know you’re all right. Or if you need anything.”

“Seriously? How old do you think I am?”

He hears Iwaizumi scoff. “Just because you’re not twenty doesn’t mean hangovers are any more pleasant.”

“Okay, fine,” Oikawa obliges. The conversation drops after that, and they’re just standing there in silence. It’s awkward.

“Well,” Oikawa tries, shifting. “Guess I’ll go to bed?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, voice not as surefire as it usually is. “Good night.”

Oikawa is about to step inside when Iwaizumi continues. “Thanks for coming by today. I was…glad to see you.”

Oikawa’s mouth opens, and closes. He can’t seem to find the right words. “It was nothing,” he says. “Your food was delicious.” They stand around for another few seconds, until Oikawa breaks the silence again. “Okay then,” he says, “good night, Iwa-chan.”

“Good night,” Iwaizumi says and finally heads back towards the elevator.

Once Oikawa shuts his door, he’s backing up against it, pinches the bridge of his nose, and breathes. His head is ringing and he really can’t stand all that well. He’s starting to smell the liquor on his breath and it’s not helping his senses. He takes a few more breaths, gathering himself, and his heart has no business beating this fast. He can’t believe he let Iwaizumi bring him home.

Oikawa pinches his nose harder.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saunterfics.tumblr.com
> 
> Follow my Iwaoi omegaverse series for more in this AU!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his gut, Oikawa knows. But he doesn't want to.

<< What do I do.

>> What do you mean, what do you do?

<< He said to call him

>> Oh??

<< to let him know I’m all right

>> Ohoho???

<< WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING

>> Oho?

<< God damn it, Kuroo, I’m trying to confide in you.

>> But I am listening.

Oikawa sighs heavily and drops his head to his hands. He’s been mulling about all day, doing nothing productive, because he just so happens to be plagued by the sequence of events from yesterday. When usually, he would have finished a workout, enjoyed his coffee, made plans for the day.

Right now, he’s barely got any creamer in his coffee. His phone vibrates on the counter, reverberating against his cheek, and he immediately grabs it to check again.

>> Idk, man. So what if he’s an alpha? You said he shouldn’t know what you are, right? Then why not do what you usually do, and not act the omega part?

Oikawa juts his bottom lip out, frowning. True.

True, but…

“Arrgghh!” Oikawa grumbles in frustration, messing up his hair. Whatever.

He picks up his phone and opens up Iwaizumi’s contact, staring at it longer than necessary. He hesitates between calling or just texting him, and settles with just a text.

<< Hey Iwa-chan

He begins typing, then edits it.

<< Hi Iwaizumi

He frowns, conflicted between how to start the text. Then, settles with:

<< Hi Iwa-chan! I’m fine and dandy today so you really didn’t need to worry about me!

Aaand…sent.

With that off his chest, Oikawa finally pulls himself together enough to get his day started. At noon.

 

===============

 

Iwaizumi’s cell pings back in its locker in the staff room, while its owner is out prepping the shop. They’ve been open for about an hour already, with a steady stream of customers. Everything is per usual, except Iwaizumi’s mind keeps floating off elsewhere while he goes through the usual motions of the job. It’s not that he’s bored; don’t get him wrong. He quite loves his job manning the shop here, but a certain someone with a certain fluff of hair keeps popping back into his mind just like how the person had popped into the store last night.

“Hajime-chan?” Auntie Sayoko asks, peering up at him from across the counter.

Iwaizumi looks up, mind in two places at once, and asks, “Ah, yes? How may I help you, Sayoko-obasan?”

She points to her own forehead, pressing the pad of her finger between her brows. “You’ve got a little frown going there, Hajime-chan. Is there something wrong?”

Iwaizumi blinks in surprise, consciously relaxing his brows at this news. “Oh,” he says, figuring out a smile on his lips, “nothing’s wrong. Just a little mishap this morning but nothing major. Sorry for worrying you.”

“Oh is that so?” She says, settling back into her seat a little more. “It sure can be rough, taking care of a shop by yourself. Even your parents did it together.”

Iwaizumi chuckles out of politeness.

“Have you ever thought about settling down soon? You’re at that age, you know,” Sayoko says conversationally.

That’s the thing about small towns outside of the city; they always like to ask about marriage.

“Haha, it’s still too soon,” Iwaizumi replies. “I’m still taking care of Ayame and Hiroto, even if they’re not here right now. I don’t think I have time to think about a new family just yet.”

“Oh, you,” Sayoko says, waving a hand in dismissal. “Are you trying to wait until Ayame-chan and Hii-kun get married first before you’re good? You’re the older brother here!”

Iwaizumi laughs good-naturedly, and says, “Well, I’m in no rush. I’m getting by just fine right now, aren’t I?”

“Auntie is just worried about you.”

“I know.”

They go silent for a moment, and Iwaizumi excuses himself to the backroom. He’s been thinking about his phone more often than usual today, and reflecting on what happened last night isn’t helping with his hopes that Oikawa would contact him today. For the first time, he wonders if this is what it feels like when his siblings were glued to their phones constantly.

He opens his locker to find that the little signal light on his phone is blinking, and his heart does a terrible dip. He flips open his phone to see that there really is a message, and he swears he’s never had this kind of mixture of worry and anticipation before. There’s a small smile on his face as he sees Oikawa’s name, and he barely realizes it.

>> Hi Iwa-chan! I’m fine and dandy today so you really didn’t need to worry about me!

The message is enough to get Iwaizumi into better spirits, given that it seems like Oikawa isn’t going to start avoiding him.

He starts typing his reply.

<< Are you sure? Or are you one to get up at noon on a weekend?

He puts his phone down, expecting to get a reply a while later, but it pings just as he tries to close the locker door. Surprised, Iwaizumi picks it back up to read:

>> Wha! Just because I messaged you at noon doesn’t mean I got up at noon!

Iwaizumi blushes immediately, embarrassed. Because that’s true; why he thought Oikawa might actually text him right away is beyond him.

< Oh. That’s right. Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing fine.

He stares at his messages for a bit, unsure of what else to say. He doesn’t quite know how texting conversations go. Granted, he doesn’t really know how general conversations go either.

>> Is Iwa-chan blushing?

<< What  
      No.

>> I bet Iwa-chan’s blushing.

<< And why would you think that?

>> Because you thought I’d text you first thing when I woke up.

Iwaizumi has no idea how to respond. So he goes with what he thinks is a good default: apologize.

<< I’m sorry. I also have to get back to work. Thanks for letting me know you’re okay.

He puts his phone back into the locker and gets back to work.

 

===============

 

Sorry?

Oikawa raises a brow at Iwaizumi’s response, amused and confused at the same time. That isn’t the reply he was expecting. He’s starting to question whether he’s still got the flirting game because _sorry_ isn’t the way that conversation should’ve gone.

Any other guy would’ve kept it going. Like, _yeah, I’d hoped you would._

Oikawa stares at his phone for a while, contemplating whether he wants to continue this or not. Somehow he feels that if he just drops it, that’s going to be it. Which should be what he wants. Which _is_ what he wants. It is.

Oh, fuck it.

He sets his phone down and goes about cleaning his apartment, remembering that he still needs to water his pansies out on the balcony.

He’s lost in thought as he stares out into the bustle of the city, perturbed by the nagging feeling in his gut that he _doesn’t_ want to end contact with Iwaizumi. And it’s irritating him.

Oikawa consciously decides not to let himself get hung up over this and gets himself back to cleaning. He’ll have lunch on the balcony today.

Before he knows it, Oikawa comes to realize that it’s already late afternoon by the time he sinks into the couch for a break. Gosh, how long has it been since he last cleaned this much?

His fridge is also fairly empty. His appetite has sure waned since he stopped doing sports. Oikawa sprawls out on his couch, thinking back on the days as a student when he could dedicate a good portion of his time to volleyball. He remembers meeting Kuroo in college, how he hated his guts at first because let’s be frank—Kuroo’s smirk can make anyone want to punch him. But then he proved himself to be _skilled_ in volleyball and he happened to be a beta, so Oikawa slowly befriended him, one way or another. Then it turns out that Kuroo is the one Oikawa complains to the most. Sometimes he wonders why he got saddled with Kuroo as his closest friend.

He hears the scratch of his phone vibrating against the coffee table and his heart does a flip. He immediately tells himself it’s not Iwaizumi. He still can’t help the sink of disappointment in his chest when he sees Kuroo’s name across the screen. The sigh crosses his lips before he can catch it.

>> Kenma’s mad at me.

Oikawa rolls his eyes.

<< What, did you eat his pudding again?

>> After he almost ripped by throat open last time, I’m at least smart enough to learn not to.

<< Then why?

>> I forgot to wash the dishes again…

The sighing emoji is quite appropriate.

<< Well then get your ass on it.

>> I did…

<< I don’t even know why he agreed to room with you.

>> Because! Childhood friends are best friends forever, you know?

<< I pity him.

>> Shut up. I’d pity whoever was saddled with you, but apparently everyone was sensible enough to run away before it happened.

<< Oh, fuck off. Oikawa-san prefers being alone.

>> Yeah, sure, that’s why you crash our place every two days.   
>> Anyways, how’s the alpha doing?

Ah. Speaking of which, Oikawa still hasn’t decided whether he should reply or not.

<< How would I know?

Oikawa switches over to Iwaizumi’s chat, staring at the last messages within it.

_> > I’m sorry. I also have to get back to work. Thanks for letting me know you’re okay._

He sighs, and sends:

<< Yeah, of course. Thanks for taking me home last night, but really, I would have been fine. I didn’t know you were such a worrywart.

Oikawa settles with adding a winking emoji to his message, just to keep it light. His phone vibrates with Kuroo’s incoming message.

>> How can you NOT know? Come on, give me something more interesting.

Oikawa frowns.

<< There’s nothing more interesting. He’s an alpha, I don’t like alphas, that’s it.

>> Are you seriously going to write him off just because he’s an alpha?

<< Are you seriously asking me that question right now?

He can almost hear Kuroo throw his arms up and sigh in exasperation on the other end.

>> Didn’t you say he’s not quite like the other alphas that you don’t like?

<< I never said that.

>> From what I’ve heard so far he seems pretty decent.

Oikawa forgot that Kuroo is actually quite the romantic, if his ability to think that Oikawa will consider an _alpha_ is anything to base off of. His appearance and general personality wouldn’t suggest it. Or maybe just a little.

<< He may be /decent/ but he’s still an /alpha/.

>> Maybe you should just give him more of a chance before you write him off.

Oikawa just sends a disgruntled cat sticker over.

Kuroo sends a shrugging bear right back.

>> I’m just sayin’. Where’s the harm in giving something a chance?

A lot, Oikawa thinks immediately.

There could be lots of harm.

To Oikawa.

But he doesn’t say it to Kuroo, and just lies back onto his couch.

 

===============

 

Iwaizumi checks his phone during the small closing period after lunch, but there isn’t a reply from Oikawa. He purses his lips just slightly—unconsciously—and sets it back into the locker. He’s surprised at the prickle of disappointment in him, mainly because he’s not the type to be attached to his phone.

Instead of letting himself think about it too much, Iwaizumi goes upstairs to his family home and takes his break. The place used to feel so cramped, especially as Hiroto and Ayame grew up. Now, it’s just him under the kotatsu, with his parents off to somewhere in the world, and his siblings gone for college. It might have felt weird at first, when the place stayed tidy for longer and he had less cleaning to do on the daily. Most of his time is spent at the izakaya, so when he comes home it’s just a neat kotatsu in the middle of the room, unused utensils stored in the kitchen, and a slightly rumpled bed in his own room.

He slides under the kotatsu and lays down, thinking it’d be good to take a nap.

His internal alarm works better than anything he could buy; he wakes up just in time to get back to the store and open up for dinner hours. At times like these, he misses the ruckus of this home when four other people lived with him.

As he heads back to the staff room to change, he doesn’t notice his phone until after he’s about to shut the locker again. Guess he’s still quite groggy, going through the prep motions unthinkingly.

His chest does this little thing he’s not used to, especially not when he’s looking at his _phone_ , for Christ’s sake. He finishes tying his apron and picks it up.

_> > Yeah, of course. Thanks for taking me home last night, but really, I would have been fine. I didn’t know you were such a worrywart._

Iwaizumi actually chuckles. He finds it surprising how easy it is to have a reply for Oikawa.

<< Is it bad to worry about someone you’re fond of?

He sends it, not thinking much of his words at all, and gets to work.

 

===============

 

Oikawa flushes immediately once he reads Iwaizumi’s text. His entire body goes rigid and he slams face first into the couch pillow.

What. The. Fuck.

“Whoa, Oikawa’s dead, Kenma, we gotta bury the body,” Kuroo announces in a flat voice.

They stare at Oikawa for a moment, and an odd silence veils the room.

“Whoa, no retort?” Kuroo asks eventually, voice back to normal. “Not gonna throw that pillow?”

Oikawa peeks one eye out at him, who’s sitting across the kotatsu table peeling mandarin oranges, and attempts to relay his usual pouting glare.

“What’s wrong?” Kenma asks, from his corner of the floor against the couch.

Oikawa buries his face back into the pillow and makes a strangled noise. Kuroo rolls his eyes and pops a slice of orange into his mouth, offers some to Kenma.

They stay like that for a while, letting Oikawa flail all he wants; it’s not all that unusual. He’s probably done weirder. Kuroo and Kenma are pretty accustomed to his idiosyncrasies. If Oikawa was in a better mood, he’d think, _bless them._

“He’s been texting me,” Oikawa says, muffled into the pillow. The heat of his breath is making it really uncomfortable.

“What?”

“He’s been texting me,” Oikawa repeats, pronounced this time as he turns his head towards the back of the couch.

“Ooh,” Kuroo quips, tone nonchalant.

“And I don’t know,” Oikawa says, slightly distressed and sitting up. He faces Kuroo with a furrow on his brow. “He’s so— _weird._ ”

Kuroo raises his brows, asks, “Weird as in…?”

“I don’t know! He’s just…I don’t know. I thanked him for taking me home last night and stuff, and now he’s saying something like ‘is it so bad to worry about someone you’re fond of,’ but he also isn’t really making the moves on me so am I overthinking things? But my sensors are never wrong.” Oikawa huffs, pulls the pillow to him in a hug.

Kuroo slips another slice of orange into his mouth and shrugs. He looks up at Oikawa and says, “How do _you_ feel about him?”

Oikawa frowns. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy…”

“And from what you’ve said, he hasn’t really done anything, so why are you freaking out?”

Oikawa bites his lips. _Because Iwaizumi isn’t acting in a way that he can predict._

“If he’s not doing anything like making the moves on you, what’s wrong with making friends with him?” Kuroo continues.

“Because he’s still an alpha,” Oikawa retorts without missing a beat.

Kuroo sighs softly. “I don’t want to contradict you on that, but from what I’ve heard so far and how you’re acting right now, I think you’re doing yourself a disservice by just shoving him into the alpha box.”

Oikawa frowns again. What Kuroo is saying makes sense, but Oikawa doesn’t want to admit that he’s right. Plus, his friend shouldn’t be taking the side of an alpha.

“I think you’re looking for any excuse to label him as a typical alpha right now.”

“But he is an alpha,” Oikawa mumbles, lowering his head to prop against the pillow in his arms.

“He’s also proving himself to be a _person_ ,” Kuroo says. Oikawa can’t deny that.

He growls in frustration and flops back onto the couch, sideways.

“Tooru,” Kenma says, finally speaking up, “how do you feel about him?”

“How do I feel?” Oikawa asks, rhetorically. “I don’t know, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy and my gut isn’t reacting to him poorly, but it’s just—I don’t know. I don’t want to…” He can’t find the words to finish that sentence.

“You don’t want to get hurt,” Kenma states as a matter of fact.

Oikawa instinctively gets a little defensive. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, other than you’re denying your feelings instead of being logical and that’s not healthy.”

That’s not what Oikawa wants to hear, but it resonates with him well enough. He growls into the pillow again.

“Why do you have to make sense, Kenma?” Oikawa asks after a moment.

“Because I’m an outsider and I know you,” Kenma replies flatly.

“What the hell, you listen to Kenma but not me? I basically said the same thing!”

“Because Kenma is actually smart,” Oikawa says, sticking his tongue out at Kuroo. “And you so did not say the same thing.”

“Wow I see how it is. After how much I was trying to care for you,” Kuroo says, shaking his head.

“No,” Oikawa says, tone just a tad defeated, “I appreciate it. Thanks for dinner, too.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. He stands up, scooping the orange peels into his hand, and asks, “So? What are you gonna do about him?”

“I don’t know, Kuroo,” Oikawa whines.

“You like him, though, right?” Kuroo asks as he walks towards the kitchen.

“I think he’s _interesting_.”

“So you like him enough,” Kuroo concludes.

Oikawa can’t deny that, so he stays silent.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Kenma says. “Just keep doing your own thing, and go with your gut sometimes. We’ll be here if you get hurt.”

“Whoa, Kenma-chan, were those words of support?” Oikawa asks, voice a teasing surprise.

Kenma resolutely keeps his eyes on his 3DS. “Those were words of fact.”

“I know right? Sometimes Kenma-chan can be surprisingly reassuring too,” Kuroo says, coming back to the living room.

“Pretend I didn’t say anything,” Kenma says, voice curt.

“What, no way! I’m going to hold you to it when I do get hurt, Kenma-chan,” Oikawa purrs happily, ruffling Kenma’s hair.

“ _If_ ,” Kuroo corrects.

Oikawa makes a disbelieving face, says, “ _When._ ”

Kuroo rolls his eyes.

 

===============

 

When he’s closing up shop, Iwaizumi overhears some of his part-timers talking about their dating life. It would usually go right over Iwaizumi’s head, but he can’t help but focus in on their discussion because he seriously has no idea what to do. His mind immediately shifts to Oikawa, and he knows he has no idea how to ask him out again. He was lucky that Oikawa decided to show up yesterday, or else who knows if Iwaizumi would ever figure out how to contact him again.

“Yeah,” one of the high schoolers quips, “he took me to the park and the pond was _so_ beautiful and—“ They giggle, leaning in closer and volume lowering, “and then he _kissed_ me!”

Iwaizumi wonders why he even bothered listening in.

He is _not_ going to be doing that.

He can’t even begin to imagine the idea of doing something so romantically cliché with _Oikawa_. He has a notion that Oikawa probably won’t appreciate it…or maybe that’s pushing his own preferences on him. But two grown men like them? Iwaizumi frowns slightly.

“Iwaizumi-san! We’re done cleaning up over here.”

“Ah, thank you! Good work today. You guys are free to go,” he says, pleasant but small smile on his face.

“Good work today!” The workers leave together.

Iwaizumi goes back to the kitchen and prepares for tomorrow. It’s a rather calming routine for him, going through the ingredients, tidying the kitchen knives, wiping down the counters just one more time.

Suddenly, the landline’s ringing and Iwaizumi turns towards the sound in mild confusion. No one calls here much anymore.

“Hello?” Iwaizumi answers.

“Brother! It’s me! You’re free now, right?”

“Oh, Ayame. I’m just finishing up at the shop. What’s up?”

“Did you forget? I come back next week.”

“Already?” Iwaizumi asks, trying to remember what day of the month it is.

“I can’t believe you forgot,” Ayame huffs. “I’m coming back for the weekend.”

“Oh, shoot. That’s right. Well, you know the way home from the station.”

“Still! Come pick me up!”

Iwaizumi sighs, a smile on his face. “Has anyone let you know that you’re spoiled?” he asks.

He can see the pout on her face.

“I know, I know. But your precious younger sister is coming home from half a year in college; shouldn’t you have lots to ask her?”

“What,” Iwaizumi says, leaning against the counter, “did you fail your classes already?”

“That’s not what you’d usually ask!”

Iwaizumi laughs. “Am I supposed to be asking if anyone has approached you?” he jokes. “To be honest, I should be asking if you’ve terrorized any poor kid over there.”

He can hear Ayame huff. “I did _not_ ,” she enunciates. “I may be an alpha, but I do know what delicacy means.”

Iwaizumi chuckles. “Okay, sure. I’ll come meet you at the X station. I should go buy some things anyways.”

“All right! Make sure to cook my favorites, Brother,” Ayame says, sounding pleased.

“All right, all right,” Iwaizumi says. “Is that all? I still need to go back and bathe.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon! Bye!”

“Bye,” Iwaizumi says and hangs up.

This is a nice end to the day, Iwaizumi thinks. He’s not going to lie; he does miss his siblings from time to time. They’ve always been good kids, even if Ayame can be way too cheeky at times.

 

===============

 

The station is way too busy at this time of day. Even though Oikawa knows the time schedule back and front by now, it still mildly stresses him out with the high tension of everyone just trying to get home buzzing around. He’s leaning against a pillar with his LINE app open, waiting for Suga to reply. They are supposed to go out to yakiniku, but Suga has yet to tell him where, exactly.

Oikawa isn’t paying attention to his surroundings much, so when he hears a squeal of “Hajime-chan!” and a whiff of something that smells _oddly_ familiar, he flinches just slightly when he looks up to see a girl barely scraping past him.

Confused, with an inkling of an idea in the back of his mind, Oikawa turns to follow the girl’s path with his eyes.

His eyes widen in surprise at the man she launches herself at, who catches her with even more surprising grace. Oikawa is rooted where he is, entire attention caught by Iwaizumi and this girl— _pretty, too_ , Oikawa almost thinks bitterly.

He never thought Iwaizumi could have such a soft, splendid smile. He also can’t quite comprehend the gentle way Iwaizumi ruffles her hair and looks at her.

He ignores the way his chest stings just a little— _a lot—_ and he can feel irritation welling up in him. So he can look like that to others too. What a fucking idiot, Oikawa.

He composes his expression and walks over, calling out, “Iwa-chan!” with his best smile as he waves. He holds himself back from furrowing his brows at the shock in Iwaizumi’s eyes.

The girl turns around, her hair a wonderful flourish across her shoulders, and peers at him with a bit of interest and a bit of confusion. “Iwa-chan?” she repeats, looking back up at Iwaizumi, who Oikawa swears goes pink just a scooch.

“Shut it,” he says gruffly, settling a hand on her head to break her stare. “Hey,” he says, looking up at Oikawa. “Nice running into you here.”

Oikawa smiles, says, “Yeah, I was just gonna meet a friend for dinner and then I caught a glimpse of you and…” he trails off, tilting his head slightly at the girl standing a little too close to Iwaizumi than what normal acquaintances warrant.

“Iwaizumi!” the girl offers, then cocks her head and laughs softly. “Whoops, he’s already ‘Iwaizumi’. I’m Ayame; you can call me Ayame-chan.”

The way his pulse calms down at that revelation is shocking. Oikawa hides his breath of relief as he says, “Oikawa,” and offers his hand.

Ayame takes it graciously, but suddenly he’s jerked slightly forward and she has both hands clamped on his, shaking furiously. “Nice to meet you, Oikawa-san!” Her smile is wide. “So you’re friends with my brother? Really?”

Iwaizumi whacks her lightly on the back of her head. “What do you mean by that?” he clips. “Also, stop being so overbearing,” he says as he pulls her back.

“Well, that’s because you don’t go out to make friends!” she pouts, behaving herself as Iwaizumi had told. She slips her hands around the straps of her backpack. “Oikawa-san! Oikawa-san! What are you doing tonight?”

“Eh?” Oikawa was a little lost in thought. Shoot. “Oh, I have plans with a friend.”

“Aw,” Ayame says, losing some of her hype. “I wanted to ask you to come to dinner; Brother is going to make my favorites!”

Oikawa chuckles, feeling much lighter than just a moment before. “Thank you, but I haven’t seen this friend in a while, so I should go meet him. I’ll come by another time.”

“Yeah,” Ayame chirps, brightening up again. When it seems they’re about to part, she suddenly leans forward, eyes sharp on Oikawa’s, and mock-whispers, “Please stay my brother’s friend, okay? He’s a little bullheaded sometimes, and he might frown a little too much, but he’s actually a great guy.” She _winks._

Oikawa is taken aback at first, having never met someone to match _his_ level of cheekiness, which was at its height during his student years. He laughs, and agrees. “Yeah,” he says, wiping at an eye, “there hasn’t been a reason for me not to.” He winks right back.

“Okay, okay, stop flirting, you two,” Iwaizumi says, sounding more exasperated than anything. He has probably had to deal with Ayame’s antics for too long, Oikawa thinks, amused. He takes a peek at Iwaizumi’s face as he tugs at Ayame, and notices that he’s not making eye contact and that might be a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Oikawa has a flash of brilliance cross his mind. He caresses a lock of Ayame’s hair, her eyes following his hand, which brings the ends to Oikawa’s lips. He presses a kiss to them, and smiles. “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Ayame.”

The blank look immediately turns mischievous, and Oikawa vaguely thinks how he likes that look on her—her brows are beautifully defined, just like her brother’s.

It’s his turn to be confused when she takes his hand, cusping his fingers while her hair falls back to drape over her shoulders. She gets on her tippy toes, then brings the back of his fingers to her lips, and presses her own kiss to them. She tucks her hair behind an ear, and smiles roguishly. “Same to you, Oikawa, sir.”

“A—ya—me,” Iwaizumi warns, a hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, whoopsies,” Ayame says, wincing playfully. “Okay, okay, I’m good, Brother. I’ll see you, Oikawa-san!”

Oikawa waves good-bye happily to her, until he stops to address Iwaizumi. “Nice seeing you, Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, demeanor somewhat stiff. “I’m sorry she’s so embarrassing,” he says as he shepherds Ayame off to their platform. He’s still not quite meeting Oikawa’s eyes.

Oikawa chuckles, says, “It’s okay. Ayame-chan’s very charming.”

Iwaizumi nods at him in parting.

In the spur of the moment, Oikawa decides to throw a wink towards Iwaizumi, too, in that brief moment their eyes met. “Good night, Iwa-chan.”

The way Iwaizumi seems to flush does things to Oikawa’s heart that he isn’t sure how to handle.

When they finally part ways, Oikawa has to take a moment to process all the emotions that ran through him within just a few minutes. It was a whirlwind for sure.

He shakes his head, deciding to file this away for now, and is glad that Suga had finally messaged him a location to meet.

 

===============

 

“Hey,” Ayame begins, “Hajime-chan.”

“Didn’t I ask you not to call me that anymore?” Iwaizumi says.

“Are you interested in Oikawa-san?” Her voice is much quieter than moments before. She’s serious.

The thing with Ayame is that she just asks things outright. Iwaizumi feels his stomach flip. He doesn’t quite answer, not because he doesn’t plan to, but because Ayame interjects with more.

“He’s…an omega, isn’t he?”

Iwaizumi glances down at her in surprise, while she just stares straight ahead.

“Somehow, I could sense it,” she continues.

Iwaizumi turns his gaze back to nothing in particular in front of him, and says, “I don’t know. I’ve never asked him.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “But he does give me that feeling.” _That somehow, I’m drawn to him,_ he thinks.

“Hmm,” Ayame hums.

They leave the topic at that, and go on their way home.

 

===============

 

>> PFFT. Were you jealous?

This is Kuroo’s response after Oikawa tells him about what happened at the station. Every time, Oikawa wonders why he even bothers talking to Kuroo about things.

<< NO  
<< I was just thinking that  
<< ofc he was like any other alpha  
<< I was just irritated that  
<< idk. That I even thought he could be different?

>> But he still is?

<< I guess. I’m feeling so stupid now. Wow.

>> Why, because you realize that you actually care?

By now, Oikawa can barely convince himself otherwise. He just feels guilt gnawing at him, too. Who is he, if not someone who hates the idea of pairings and was so confident that he would never fall for an alpha? Who is he, if he just succumbs to this shitty alpha-omega life pair bullshit?

>> Look, jokes aside, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, man

<< How is this not a /disaster/ instead

Kuroo sends a sighing emoji over. Oikawa knows he’s being difficult.

>> It can be both.

<< You’re not helping.

Oikawa frowns, keeps pressing ‘Next’ on his remote as he shifts through Netflix. He sighs, plays something random he came across, and rests his eyes. Immediately, he feels his body grow heavy as his sinks into his couch, the white noise of his TV lulling him to sleep. He hears his phone ping in his notification tone and thinks that he’ll check it in just a second, but it’s not long before he falls asleep just like that—it _has_ been a draining day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saunterfics.tumblr.com/tagged/iwaoi-ov
> 
> Follow my Iwaoi omegaverse series for more in this AU!
> 
> Sorry this took so long.


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